


My Burglar

by a-barefoot-hobbit (aredhel_of_gondolin)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic, bagginshield, collapse, sick hobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29201619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aredhel_of_gondolin/pseuds/a-barefoot-hobbit
Summary: How does Thorin react when Bilbo suddenly collapses on the quest?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	My Burglar

It all started with a sneeze.

_Achoo!!_

But since it was only a single sneeze, most of the Company murmured a low “gazoontite”, and carried on with their trek.

Then the coughing began. The initial throat clearing soon gave way to deep, wet-sounding coughs, and it became painfully clear.

Their burglar was sick.

*********

“Would you like a bit more tea?” offered Oin, holding out a small tin cup of warm liquid. The sun had only just emerged from behind the clouds; the end of the massive rainstorm that had just passed. And that was directly on the heels of them escaping from the goblin caves.

Bilba thought for a moment, chewing his lip. Then he nodded and took the mug with a low “Thank you,” that was pitched low in hopes that nobody would hear how congested he was.

The tea felt like heaven. Bilbo sipped it slowly, trying to savor each delicious, soothing drop for his scratchy throat. Up to this point, he’d tried to hide every sign of his illness from the rest of the company, not needing to give Thorin another reason to send him back. _Though it’s a bit late to be sending me back anywhere_ , he mused.

He could feel the illness taking a toll on him, making his head spin and his limbs like rubber. Back in the Shire, he’d be taking a week to do nothing but sit in his comfortable armchair by the fire and doze. But he wasn’t in the Shire, and it wasn’t _that_ bad.

**********

Thorin could tell that something was wrong with their burglar, but he just assumed it was exhaustion and low spirits from the goblin caves. It was nothing to waste time on. Until Oin made his way to the front and mentioned something about a sick hobbit, he’d barely given a second thought to it.

Even then, he dismissed the healer. Everyone had gotten a mild cold at some point on the journey—there was nothing to stop for.

Well, that is until the Hobbit decided to collapse.

**********

Bilbo could feel himself weakening. Even after the wonderful, incredible tea—he made a mental note to ask Oin for the recipe later—he felt like complete and utter garbage. Each step felt like his feet were encased in bricks, weighing him down and pulling him into the soil. And his head…ow.

Bilbo groaned. He could practically feel his head pulsing with each second, pounding on his skull.

He couldn’t let Thorin down again, he couldn’t give him a reason to send him back. He’d signed onto this quest and he wasn’t about to turn back now. So he kept plodding forward.

It was only when Fili clapped a worried hand on his shoulder that he lost his carefully maintained balance. The sudden added weight was just too much, and his knees buckled, sending him keeling over sideways.

**********

“Bilbo?!?” Fili called, panicked at the sight of their burglar now sprawled out flat on the ground. “Oh Mahal, I think I broke him.”

Kili smacked his brother and rushed over to help. After a few moments, he called Oin over to look. “I think he’s sick.”

“Sick enough to collapse?” asked Thorin, who had made his way to them.

“Well he’s more sick than I thought he was,” said Oin, checking Bilbo’s pulse and temperature.

“You knew?” Fili and Kili asked in unison.

“Like I said, I thought it was just a mild cold!”

“What if Hobbits get sicker than dwarves?”

“Well how would I know?!”

“He’s a member of the company, you’re _supposed_ to know!”

Thorin took a deep breath. “Enough!!” he bellowed, knowing the conversation was quickly getting out of hand. They immediately quietly and stepped back to give Oin some room. “What’s the matter with my burglar, Oin?”

“He ah…. He seems to have a moderately severe fever. Most likely a bad cold of infection from the goblin caves that went untreated. Add those festering conditions to the fact that we’ve barely had a day without rain since we left and…” he trailed off, gesturing at the poor hobbit, “it’s no surprise he’s taken sick like this.”

“No surprise?!” cried Kili, “well why then didn’t you tell us?”

“If you’ll stop parroting my words,” Oin began, beginning to get irritated. “I can give him a cool wrap on his head for the fever, and then we’ll see if we can’t get some more tea in him.” He looked at Thorin a bit nervously. “We’d have to break for camp a few hours early.”

“Because a member of my company refused to let anyone know he was badly sick.”

“Yes. We really shouldn’t be moving him.”

“Fine.”

**********

When Bilbo awoke, it was to the bright morning light. Of course, it wasn’t very pleasant to him, and he winced at the stabbing behind his eyelids.

“Laddie? You awake yet?”

The question jarred the poor hobbit fully into wakefulness. “Unfortunately,” He grumbled.

“How do you feel?” asked the dwarf. Bilbo slowly cracked his eyes open to see a large mustache and hat hovering in his field of vision. _Bofur always was infuriatingly chipper in the mornings._

“It’s because I’m usually awake,” Bofur chuckled lightly, laughter dancing in his eyes.

More than a bit mortified, Bilbo mumbled, “I said that out loud didn’t I.”

“Yep!” chirped Bofur, who then turned to the side. “I’d say he feels much better than yesterday. Already bringing out the snark too.”

Thorin let out a relieved sigh at those words. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he’d been quite worried when his burglar had collapsed like that. “Alright,” he nodded. Then to Oin, he asked “how much more rest does he need?”

Oin thought for a moment. “I’d just say maybe an hour or two to regain his strength.”

“But wouldn’t it be worse on his health for him to be traveling so soon?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “ _He_ is right here, and _he_ has a name.”

The two dwarves at least had the sense to look apologetic, though it was clear that they were still worried.

“I’ll be quite alright to start travelling again now,” Bilbo hurried to continue. “I know I made you lose several hours of daylight yesterd—”

“Unacceptable,” Thorin cut him off, his eyes stern and brooking no argument. “You’ll stay here and rest for a few more hours until you regain your strength.”

“But I’m perfectly fine—”

Thorin just tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Bilbo noticed a smirk hovering about the dwarf’s lips and knew there was no way he’d convince Thorin otherwise. But those lips did look…

A sudden blush rose up Bilbo’s neck and he had to deliberately avert his gaze, biting the inside of his cheek.

Thorin’s smirk became a playful smile. “Don’t ever think that I wouldn’t take care of my burglar.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and requests are open.


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